


Handsome

by snidgetsong



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, F/M, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Inspired by Poetry, Non-Canon Relationship, Not A Fix-It, POV Severus Snape, Past Relationship(s), Pining, Regret, Romantic Friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-12
Updated: 2015-07-12
Packaged: 2018-04-09 01:23:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4328424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snidgetsong/pseuds/snidgetsong
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Headmaster Snape's year at Hogwarts</p>
            </blockquote>





	Handsome

_Handsome, like those foam-topped tidal waves breaking high, in little crystal globes._  
_Handsome, like the breeze that lifts a little tuft of tulle. If tulle were life._  
_Handsome, like a frozen face, tear-tracked, when the sun hammers down._  
_Handsome. Like fire._  
~Lucie Thésée 

The day dawned and waking was more than he'd dared hope for when he'd finally succumbed to his body's demand for sleep. The sky remained dark, the sun barely breaking through the clouds, but Severus could sense that the time to rest had passed.

An angry storm was whirling outside the windows, mirroring the turmoil that he could feel brewing within the castle. The wind howled as the rain beat against the panes of glass, pounding hard enough to rattle the latch. 

Dozens of sturdy, glass panes fought to keep the violent storm at bay, fought to keep the Headmaster safe; at least as safe as he could hope to be anywhere any more. Severus wanted nothing more than to turn around and go back to bed, but he resisted the urge. 

He knew that if he dared seek such comfort that the Dark Lord would call—or worse, he would remember just whose bed he was using and his night terrors would trap him into watching Albus fall from the Astronomy Tower again and again. Shivering from the memory, he pointed his wand towards the fire and watched as the flames burst to life. 

His mission had stalled. Albus had asked him for a handful of favours and he'd managed to fulfil all but two. The last, the one he dreaded most, could be put off until the boy was ready, but the sword, which was laying safely under his mattress needed to find its way to Potter. 

There was nothing for it. He was going to have to risk blowing his cover by searching for the boy. If Phineas Nigellas could only hear any useful bit of information about the boy's location, he'd make his move and safely tick another favour from Albus's list. He didn't know why, but he was certain that the boy needed the sword. 

Albus had stressed that with the sword and his friends, Potter would overcome the impossible odds set against him—Not that Severus believed that a know-it-all and a ginger dunderhead were nearly as valuable as the sword, but he would follow through as Albus wished. 

He'd keep his word and pay whatever price necessary, because Merlin forbid, Albus not get his way. He ran a weary hand over his face, thinking of all he still had to do and snorted at the ridiculousness of his situation. How Albus expected him to manage this, he'd never know.

Between glistening streams of rain, Severus searched the early morning sky. Somewhere behind all the dark, ominous clouds swirling outside, the sun was shining, and like it or not, he had to face breakfast in the Great Hall as well as all the people that it held, including Minerva. 

Severus's mood darkened as he thought of her; Minerva, his friend and rival, once his teacher then later his lover, but now, she thought him nothing more than the lowliest of enemies: Albus's murderer and the Dark Lord's right hand. He could regret deceiving her, but regret was all he could allow himself and only then in his most private moments. He had to stick to Albus's plan, and that meant Headmaster Snape could show no weakness and spare no feelings.

Severus doused the flames and pulled on his outer robes. He'd never flinched when groveling before the Dark Lord, and he wasn't going to start cowering to an angry lioness. He slammed the door behind him and heard the gossiping Headmasters of Hogwarts begin their daily bashing of his character from within their little rectangular world. 

Someday when he was long dead, he was going to hex Albus for feigning sleep inside his portrait and never once offering a hint of defense on his behalf, the selfish old bastard. He could have at least let him have a bit of peace within his office, but no, Albus the master-mind, couldn't risk any of the portraits showing Severus allegiance. 

If Phineas Nigellas weren't a Slytherin and a Black, none of the portraits would have acknowledged him, and even Phineas complied only to help Potter. It was a thankless job that Albus had foisted upon him, a job filled with constant irritations. 

Severus entered the Great Hall careful to exude the indignant self-confidence everyone expected him to show while desperately missing the days when he'd actually felt it. He'd never been less sure of himself and that was a lot to admit to given his school years. 

As he approached the Head Table, he could see Minerva with her head bent over her porridge. To others it might look as if she wasn't paying attention to the students sitting at the tables below, but Severus knew her well. She was aware of precisely what all her little lions were up to and given the sudden tension in her shoulders, she was also aware that he'd arrived.

Ignoring the tugging in his chest, Severus sat down at her side and pretended all was well. "Minerva," he said quietly in greeting. He'd said it every day of term, but she'd yet to acknowledge him.

" _Professor_ Snape," she replied with a curt, cold tone. 

Severus glanced to his left, hoping that her heart had softened. Now that their mutual dislike was publicly established, if he could just get her alone, he might be able to explain. She wouldn't meet his eyes, and the pain of losing her companionship hit him full force again. Albus's plan was costing him dearly, maybe too dearly.

Some people might consider it an insult to call a woman handsome, but those people wouldn't have met Minerva. She had plenty of beauty, but it was her strength and grace—her fire that drew Severus to her bed and kept him coming back year after year long after his initial infatuation with her had faded.

He missed the way her dark hair tumbled to her shoulders when she pulled out the last hair pin, the way she arched her back when he licked her nipples, the way her brogue got just a bit thicker after too much scotch, and most of all, the way she'd never judged him for his sins. Severus risked another glance in her direction. She was gifting Filius with one of those half-smiles that she used to give him in the midst of a barbed conversation. 

Suddenly, he couldn't stand the thought of trying to swallow another bite of his cold breakfast… the blasted elves really didn't like him these days, the little demons. 

It wasn't jealousy that was twisting inside him because he knew Filius was only a dear friend; it was despair. Despair so strong that it could challenge the storm that swirled above them on the ceiling. Witnessing Minerva's contempt was tearing him apart. If he stayed, he'd never be able to hide how much he was bothered. 

He pushed his bowl away with a sneer and tossed his napkin over the congealed goo. He stood and pushed his chair back making it screech as it scraped across the floor. The crudeness of his behaviour drew both Minerva and Filius's attention and he shot them a withered look as he growled, "If the staff would be so kind as to keep their chitchat to a minimum, I believe that you all have classes to teach shortly."

As he walked away, he heard Minerva grumble, "Pompous prick."

\--

Severus watched the encounter from a close but cautious distance. It wouldn't do to have Alecto think he was anything but supportive of her efforts to torment the staff. Of course, Alecto was a fool to try besting Minerva in a game of wits, and Severus delighted in a chance to eavesdrop on their conversation.

Alecto snarled something about stringing up little lions by their tails, and Severus braced himself for a duel. He couldn't openly assist Minerva, but he wouldn't miss an opportunity to hex that dimwit Alecto. He was both proud and disappointed when Minerva hissed something that made Alecto flush and back away. 

There wasn't much that would make Alecto back down; she wasn't bright enough to recognise danger or clever enough to choose her battles well. Whatever it was, Severus wished he could use it to drive her away when she came up to the Headmaster's office and tried to tempt him into servicing her by lifting her skirts. 

He swallowed thickly remembering how unappealing she'd looked with her ratty under things. Not even for the Dark Lord, would he service randy Alecto. He'd leave that to McNair, the beast slayer, when he'd had too much ale. 

Severus rubbed his wand anxious to get in a hex or jinx while he could, but he wouldn't create a situation that encouraged Alecto to actively seek retribution against Minerva. Not when Minerva was standing there shaking with desire to unleash her fury but keeping her grace, even as Alecto stomped away convinced that she'd won the argument. 

Severus smirked as he watched Minerva rolling her wand between her hands. Her lip was going to be sore tomorrow if she didn't stop biting it. He stepped back into the shadows so that she wouldn't realise that he'd been watching over her. Judging from her stance, he could imagine what she would be doing next. 

She'd go to her office and break some of her antique trinkets, toss back two fingers of Firewhisky then scream to Albus's empty portrait. And only when she was alone and safe would she let go of all the frustration that she was holding inside for propriety's sake. Then she'd cry until her exasperation faded, and she'd repair the same trinkets that she'd already broken a thousand times over the years. 

He knew that's what she'd do, because he was once privy to her most intimate moments. There was so much passion inside her slender frame, so much need to do what was right, to uphold all that she deemed good. Every time she defied one of the Dark Lord's orders or one of _His_ idiots, Severus admired her just a bit more. 

\--

These defiant brats were going to get themselves killed. Severus sneered as he scolded, "Since you have no respect for rules or your elders, I'm forced to become increasingly creative until you cretins learn your place." 

He hovered over Creevey and Longbottom torn between outrage for their stupidity and relief that they still had the mettle to defy the Carrows' orders. "So you want to fight? You want to defy the Dark Lord? Well, let's play a game. Creevey, go out into the forest and hide as best you can. You have a fifteen minute advantage—don't waste it dawdling." 

Creevey stumbled back in horror, panic all over his freckled face. The boy gasped, "But—"

"Go, Creevey," Severus interrupted, leaning in to whisper, "unless you'd like to surrender without a fight…" He watched the boy turn and run, and although he hoped it would be Longbottom who'd find him, he showed only contempt for the boy's fear.

"Crabbe, you and Goyle take Longbottom with you for the hunt. Whoever finds Creevey gets to decide his punishment and make certain it's nothing that Madame Pomfrey can't fix. This is a training exercise not a battle. Oh, and Longbottom, do try not to get in their way, or they might forget who they're hunting."

Longbottom stared at him aghast that he'd do something so cruel, but the hard glint never left the boy's eyes. Longbottom was finally proving himself to be more than an inept irritant. Since the beginning of the school year, he'd taken over Potter's roll as impertinent irritant, and Severus was happy for the distraction he caused the Carrows, in particular, Alecto. 

He watched the clock in the Entrance Hall and when ten minutes had passed Severus said, "Creevey needs to learn a lesson about disobeying his betters. Go, find him and see to it that he doesn't need to be reminded again."

Maintaining his roll as challenger of all authority, Longbottom argued, "But you said he had fifteen minutes!"

"And he's about to learn that I lie. Go now or give Crabbe and Goyle a five minute advantage. It matters not, since we both know that you'll never find him." 

Longbottom narrowed his eyes and nodded as if Severus had finally proven himself as the horrible bogey man of his nightmares. Foolish little boy, the real bogey man hadn't yet arrived at Hogwarts.

"Well, are you three imbeciles going to go, or shall I go find him myself?"

He watched all three take off racing, wands drawn at the ready. He was running out of ways to torment the children that wasn't actual torture. If only he really was the most dangerous person in the castle, but he had more than one jackal on the staff who'd enjoy nothing more than reporting any leniency he showed back to the Dark Lord.

He lingered in the Entrance Hall, all expression masked. He knew Minerva had been hovering nearby, listening in to his latest disciplinary efforts. Still too proper to interrupt and too intelligent to risk making it worse for the students, she stayed in the shadows until she was certain he was alone. 

As he'd expected, she pounced like a lioness on the hunt when he was seemingly distracted. "How could you? Students hunting students?"

Severus turned to face Minerva. His breath caught because she was magnificent in her outrage, glorious for having taken offense from his vicious games. A strand of hair had fallen loose from her tight bun and was brushing against her cheek bone, her eyes were piercing, reflecting her vexation. 

He decided to toy with her just to keep her nearby for a little longer. "If you want your little cubs to be safe, you should take more interest in having them follow the rules." 

"They're children, Severus!" His heart pounded. She hadn't called him Severus in almost a year. His ears buzzed, but he managed to hear her add, "They're going to make mistakes; you certainly made plenty." 

How dare she, when she knew that it was her brats who'd goaded him into almost every detention he'd served? "And perhaps if the _then_ Headmaster had been interested in meting out justice instead of playing favourites, I would have made fewer. Do you wish to challenge my authority?"

"Don't speak of Albus." She looked at him with undisguised loathing. "What would be the purpose of challenging a man who blindly follows another? You've chosen your master, and I can't imagine anything that I could say that would sway you from your ambitions. Just know that I will protect them any way that I can."

Severus's cock twitched. Damn but he hated how his body responded to her daring. He bent down, leaning in close to smell her perfume as he quietly asked, "Is that a threat, professor?"

She scoffed, obviously repulsed by his advances. "Heavens no, that's simply what adults do for children. You might try it." She turned and walked away, leaving him wishing he could tell her that he was trying to do exactly that, but telling her wasn't part of the plan any more. It was too late to take her into his confidence. Soon they'd meet as enemies, and he hoped he survived it. 

\--

The portraits were hurriedly whispering to each other then growing quiet as he passed. That could mean only one thing. Potter was back, and Severus had to find a way to get to him. It was time to tell the boy the entire truth as Albus had planned.

Severus searched the corridors as he made his way towards dinner, but he couldn't find any of Potter's lackeys. The brat probably had them gathered somewhere encouraging them to rise up against the Dark Lord with no plan or strategy. He had no idea how the boy had managed to stay alive so far, but it was probably the result of a lot of hard work by the Granger chit. 

Into the night, Severus prowled the corridors trying to find the boy, to complete his task as Albus had ordered. Finally, when he was about to give up hope, Minerva turned the corner and he stepped behind a suit of armor. She'd likely know where the boy could be found. Perhaps he could follow her.

Potter had to be told his fate, but it needed to be done in private. The Dark Lord's followers could never learn of what he had to say. As she approached, he could feel magic in the air, the boy was with her under that blasted cloak that Albus gave him in his first year.

How many times had he felt that powerful magic and been forced to ignore it to keep the boy oblivious to Severus's knowledge of it? It was strong, ancient magic, and he hoped that the Dark Lord never had a chance to be exposed to it, or he'd stop at nothing to possess it.

Minerva paused, obviously on guard. She called out and he stepped into the corridor from his hiding place, hoping one last time for her assistance. The look on her face told him that she'd protect the boy till the end with all her pride and fire and she wasn't about to trust him to do the same. This was an unfortunate turn of events. He couldn't fight her like he would fight any other, because he wouldn't risk hurting her to maintain his cover. 

Albus be damned. Hurting Minerva was never a part of their agreement. He fingered his wand, and watched as she moved to protectively cover the invisible boy behind her while pointing her wand at him. Her attack was sudden, and he barely had time to shield against it. The hot flames reminded him of just how powerful a witch she was… How easy it would be to let her strike him down right there... If only he could have got to the boy earlier to tell him the awful truth, Severus would have dropped to his knees and let her unleash her fury. 

He sent a giant black snake back at her, knowing that she'd Transfigure it easily. However, he wasn't expecting her to choose a great cluster of daggers. He jumped behind the suit of armor once more, cringing as the daggers slammed against it. 

Minerva had the kind of spirit that couldn't be contained; it ran through her and touched anyone willing to savour it or test it. They were on the precipice of battle, and she'd never looked more dedicated … like Diana come down from on high, prowling and waiting to pounce. He couldn't engage her without killing her, which meant that he had to flee.

Severus threw a couple of curses, making sure they were off their mark. Minerva was being less forgiving, but it was Filius's arrival that told him he had to escape immediately if he hoped to ever complete his mission. He dodged a hex and sent a spell behind him to break the glass windows, and he jumped into the chilly darkness forcing himself to remain aloft with the draining magic he'd learned from the Dark Lord himself. 

He didn't know if he'd live to see Minerva again to make things right, but if he didn't, there was no better last image that he could ask to take with him to the other side. She was still fiery, still strong enough to survive this battle. Potter would need her to help him hold the castle and once Potter perished, the wizarding world would need her strength just as Severus had.


End file.
